Clementine.—Oh! certainly not.
M. de Flaumont.—It was even possible that Paul might have died. Even in that case, could one have regretted his exposing his life to save André?
Henry (with animation).—No, certainly not: that could not be regretted.
M. de Flaumont.—That proves to you that the reward, as I have said, is quite independent of the consequences. Thus, for instance, if a workman had executed a piece of work for a person who refused to pay him: you would regret that he had done the work, because the payment is the natural recompense of his toil; whereas, you would never think of regretting that a man had performed a generous action, even though it turned out badly for him, because you would feel that he was rewarded by the action itself.
After all, my children, added M. de Flaumont, do not think that virtue is always so difficult. Our true duties are usually placed within our reach, so that they may be performed without much effort; still, as cases may arise in which effort is necessary, we ought to be prepared with means of supporting those efforts. We ought to accustom ourselves to consider duty as being quite as indispensable when it is difficult as when it is easy; and we ought, also, to have our minds so prepared, that we shall not magnify difficulties to such a degree as to render them insurmountable. Thus, we should not exaggerate the importance of any one duty, as we shall thereby be led to neglect others; but, after having fully persuaded ourselves that it is impossible there can exist at one and the same time two contradictory duties, let us, in cases of difficulty, lean to that which seems the most important, and, while regretting our inability to do all that we could wish, let us not regard as a duty that which another duty has prevented us from performing.
MORAL DOUBTS.
FIRST DIALOGUE.
M. de Flaumont; Henry, Gustavus, and Clementine, his Children.
M. de Flaumont.—Children, would you like me to relate to you two stories, which I have just been reading in a foreign newspaper?